


The Gardener (The Singing TARDIS Overdub)

by Poetry



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetry/pseuds/Poetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The TARDIS has a garden for a heart. Rory nurses it to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gardener (The Singing TARDIS Overdub)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [singlecrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlecrow/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sweetpeas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/121307) by [Raven (singlecrow)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlecrow/pseuds/Raven). 



The TARDIS is many things, but she isn't tidy.

She grows riotous within, all the love and wisdom of ages within her heart bursting forth in strange and wondrous ways - like the Hawaiian leis growing from the walls of the wardrobe room, or the strains of wild song that she sometimes sings even though only the Doctor can hear.

There is also, within her, a garden. It sends forth new shoots whenever the Doctor takes on a new companion, or visits a world he's never seen before. The Paradox Machine blackened it to cinders and a few straggling weeds, though time and care returned it to life.

The TARDIS doesn't prune it, tame it, shape it; that is not the way of her. She wanders, and she sings, and she is kind to the people within her whenever she can. But she does not tend to the garden that is her heart, and neither does her Time Lord.

There have been many little ones that have taken an interest in the garden. The little one with the wolf inside her sometimes came here when her burdens were such that she could not share them with the Doctor. The Time Lady visited out of sheer curiosity; she had never seen a TARDIS with a garden inside. But no one had ever cared for the garden the way the little healer did.

The little healer waters her garden, and plucks out the weeds, and tends to the soil. He hums to himself as he goes, and there's always a smile in his heart when he's finished. She sends him breezes to lighten his work, and because she likes the way he closes his eyes and sighs when it blows across his face.

He never takes his lady love, the little one with fire in her hair. It's not because he isn't proud of his work. The garden is a part of his life all his own, not shaped by the will of his fire-haired lady. But the TARDIS thinks the little one with fire in her hair ought to see. It would bring joy to her, and it would help her understand her young gentleman. So one day when the little healer is working in the garden, the TARDIS steers his lady's steps toward the door and lets it swing open unlocked.

The little healer drops his tools and looks up. "Oh. Hullo, Amy."

"Is this where you always go when I'm taking a bath?" the fire-haired girl says. "I thought you went to read a book or something."

"I like it," says the little healer. "It's relaxing."

"It's…" That's when his lady looks around the garden, really looks. She sees the mark of his love in every neat row of flowers and trimmed lawn, just as she sees the marks of his love within herself when she takes the time to understand. It's not often enough, the TARDIS thinks, that the fire-haired girl knows the healing he makes with his hands every day. She stoops to take in the fragrance of a fresh bloom.

"It's just how I imagined a garden of yours would look," she says.

"How did you imagine it would look?" the little healer asks.

"Simple. Tidy." She smiles. "Alive."


End file.
